Roses of Yesterday
by ForeverShippingJohnlock
Summary: On her deathbed, Elizabeth confides in Ciel the things she's always felt, but never said aloud. Ciel, awash with guilt and self-loathing, hears her out, desperately wishing things were different.


Roses of Yesterday

Elizabeth's breathing was getting more and more strained with each passing day, and Ciel simultaneously couldn't bear to look at her, yet also couldn't seem to do anything else.

It was his fault, for being unable to give her what she needed; it was her fault for having such delicate sensibilities; it was the fault of the damnable human condition. Ciel was searching for something to blame, anything that might make some sense of all of this. He already felt far too out of his depth, and utterly helpless.

He sat beside Lizzy's bed, leaned forward in his chair to observe her. She lay there, her usual blushing effervescence dulled to a pale and sickly imitation. Her eyelids were closed in a doze, her breathing frightfully shallow.

Ciel reached out and clasped her hand gently, between both of his. He chided himself at the pathetic action when it seemed to awaken her, her eyelids fluttering open and her face turning towards him.

As soon as her green eyes landed on his face, she smiled weakly, looking as happy as she was currently able to.

"Ciel," she whispered, sounding surprised. The tone stung Ciel, just a little. Had she really not expected him to be here?

"Hello, Lizzy," Ciel murmured. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm alright," she replied and Ciel assumed she was aiming for nonchalance, but he could hear the rattle of her breath.

As if to echo his thoughts, a coughing fit seized her and the strength of it nearly forced her upright. Her shoulders hunched as she heaved and sputtered, Ciel wincing at the strain of it. He continued to hold her hand, squeezing it on reflex. She choked on something for a second, before she reached to her lips with her free hand and pulled out a red rose petal.

Over the last few weeks, Ciel is sure Lizzy could have reconstructed dozens of bouquets from all the flower petals she had expelled. It was always roses, the symbol of romantic affection that mocked him by their steady presence from the girl he could not love.

 _Happy Valentine's Day,_ he thought to himself with bitter anger. Not at her, never at her. But more at himself, at their unavoidable circumstances, which felt especially cruel considering the coming holiday.

She'd been diagnosed with Hanahaki disease. A curse of love unrequited. Although no one knew how it happened, the why in this case was irrefutably apparent.

Elizabeth Midford loved Ciel Phantomhive, and Ciel Phantomhive loved Elizabeth Midford. The tragedy of it being that as they grew into that love – only just beginning to scratch the surface of what the word really meant – they felt it in two entirely different ways.

Ciel watched as Lizzy attempted to catch her breath, and he rubbed his thumb absentmindedly across her knuckles.

"There are options available to you," he said quietly, not for the first time. He avoided her eyes, but he could feel her stubborn gaze heavy upon him.

"No," she replied simply and stonily. He looked up then, exasperated anew and ready to have this argument for the umpteenth time.

"You're going to _die,_ Elizabeth! Do you even understand that? And for what?"

"For love."

Ever since Elizabeth had fallen ill, their interactions had become more impactful and serious. As the smiles and laughter faded, they were left with feelings almost too big for thirteen-year-old bodies to hold. Ciel had seen a new side of Lizzy, he'd seen glimpses of the girl he knew turning into the woman he'd never get the chance to know.

"This isn't some noble sacrifice, Lizzy. You're not a martyr. You're… you're selfish," Ciel spat, his voice icy and cold. Elizabeth looked a bit like she'd been slapped before her expression leveled into infuriating understanding, like she was about to explain something to a child.

"Perhaps I am. But if I do as you say, if I get this surgery, if they fix what's wrong with me… I may never love again. Worse than that, I won't… I won't love _you,_ Ciel." Lizzy's eyes filled with tears, but the patient smile never left her face, and Ciel found it very difficult to hold a gaze filled with such unadulterated adoration. It made the burning of self-hatred in the pit of his stomach all the more painful.

"But you're so young! You could still find someone, someone far better than me. I'm not worth this, Lizzy. For God's sake, I am not worth dying for!"

"To me, you are worth everything," Lizzy said, again with that same level of gut-wrenching honesty. The time for embarrassment at confessions of grand truths was over; here, so close to the end, there was no point in dancing around ideas and wasting more time than what was left. Lizzy paused for a moment, as if she was trying to find the right words for what she wanted to express. "If I lose you, lose what I feel for you – what I've _always_ felt for you – I'd be losing such a big part of myself. It would leave a gaping void inside me, and I just know that one day, that blackness will swallow everything. And I just… I will not let it." Her voice was more determined than Ciel had ever heard it, despite her waning strength. Her tone softened a little as she went on. "If I cannot remain cute until the end, I shall at least remain resolute in what I believe in. And what I believe in, is love."

Ciel listened to all of this, and bowed his head in an uncharacteristic gesture of defeat, knowing this battle had long since been lost. He respected his fiancé enough to accept that.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words coming out unbidden.

 _I'm sorry I can't save you. I'm sorry I can't be what you need. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

"You can't help the way that you feel any more than I can," Lizzy replied softly, her grip on his hand tightening incrementally.

Ciel looked up, willing away the moisture that had begun to collect in his blue eyes. "I do love you, you know."

Elizabeth smiled, "I know. I love you, too."

Neither of them acknowledged that though their words were the same, their meanings were veritable worlds apart.

They also didn't acknowledge just how much those words felt like goodbye.


End file.
